Truth's Shadow
by Humanized Serenity
Summary: Magnus Bane was still getting used to his newly acquired fame. That is not to say he did not enjoy the attention; the feeling of being recognized for his music was beyond words in his vast vocabulary. After a near death experience, life couldn't get more exciting, could it? Who would have thought meeting a beautiful blue eyed boy at a party could change his life so much? AU Malec
1. Chapter 1

**This story is dedicated to Cennis, who, when I told her the idea, asked me to write it out. Happy Birthday, sweetie~**

_**Warnings: **_**This is a Malec Fanfic, which means SLASH, M/M, YAOI, BOY LOVE. If that bothers you, leave now. **

**This fanfic will have a sex scene, violence, and even death later on (reason for the M rating). If that bothers you, leave now. **

**This is also going to be a VERY LONG story; it's going to have four parts, and each part is going to have AT LEAST ten chapters, and each chapter is going to be AT LEAST ten pages long. If you don't think you don't like long fanfics, you've been warned. **

**Also, a side pairing in this story is Simon/Clary; I'm warning everyone ahead of time, in case someone has a really trouble with the pairing. It's only a side pairing, hardly will get much attention, much less a kiss or something. But I know it's annoying sometimes when you are reading a fanfic you really like and a pairing you can't stand appears. Although there will be hints of POTENTIAL Jace/Clary (meaning, if the situation the characters were in was different, then they would be together), Simon/Clary will be a pairing in this fanfic, from Chapter 01 to the end. Can't stand the pairing and it would ruin your reading experience? Leave now.**

**Finally, and I think this was obvious, this is an AU fanfic. Hate AUs? Leave now.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mortal Instruments… If I did, Alec would be the main character of the series, 'cause I just love him so much. **

**Truth's Shadow **

**..::Part I: Accelerando::..**

_~Chapter 01~ _

The sun shone bright, its rays reaching farther beyond the horizon, creating a dark contrast between that which the light touched and that which was shielded from it. All around buildings with peeked roofs and stained glassed windows stood tall and proud. The old, gray, cracked stones that formed the foundation of the building were laced with dead ivy plant, making the place look as old as it actually was. Yet, the city still seemed strong; the age not taking away its brilliant glory. There was no doubt that those stone walls could still endure twice the number of years it had stood.

The trees were frozen in an eternal spring; its vibrant flowers had been blooming since the beginning of times, and they would continue bloom two eternities from now. There were greens and blues and purples and pinks and whites in the garden; and every time the wind blew petals would fly through the air in a magical dance. The petals were never ending, no matter how many fell, more seemed to grow in their place almost instantly.

Once feathers as colorful as these petals would have been seen all around Alicante; the laughter of its citizens bringing warmth, peace, and comfort to those around. Alas, times have changed, and the streets of the proud city now stood empty, their crystal flooring reflecting nothing but the low mist that never seemed to quite fade. Alicante was no home; the sacred realm of Idris had now but three purposes: a military base, the station for The Clave, and temporary quarters for those who had been severely injured in the War. No Shadowhunter, given the choice, would spend the little spare time they had in the city. What was once a sight of beauty, capable of only being described by the masters of prose, now seemed to create the perfect harmony between the sinister and the melancholic.

Even the mystical sound of the bells could not diminish the somber tension inside the Court. The judge sat proudly on his bench, looking at the chained man with subdued rage. To his right stood the Silent Brothers; Shadowhunters from The Clave that had left the building to watch the trial. To his left, a man and a woman, both dark of hair, belonging to the same Shadowhunting Branch, looked at the man being accused of the most horrendous crime a Shadowhunter could possibly commit with cold and almost emotionless eyes; though if one looked deep enough, it was possible to see disgust and betrayal.

Isabelle, also dark of hair, tried her best to stay composed, though she could not completely duplicate Maryse's, her former teacher, strong and yet graceful stance; for although Isabelle had been considered a fully-fledged and initiated Shadowhunter for centuries, the other female Shadowhunter still had many years of experience that the, still young for their people, girl would need to wait to acquire. Still, she tried her best to look professional, determined not to allow anyone to look down at her just because she was the youngest in the room. She was a Shadowhunter of the Lightwood Branch, a fine warrior who had never failed a mission, or allowed any harm to come to her Charges. As such, she deserved all the respect they could give.

And so, Isabelle looked straight to the judge's eyes, her voice detailing word for word what she had witnessed; no doubt a repeat of what Jace had already testified. She glance down, for less than a second after her story was finished, and was able to catch some of her pink aura through the mist as it was reflected in the crystal floor. It had been at least three decades since she last saw her own complete reflection in a mundane mirror, and even longer, far longer, since she saw it through the ever brilliant grounds of Alicante. Back then the sacred realm could still be called a home, and Isabelle was young and naïve, thinking that nothing, not even the laws that bound her kind, could stop Shadowhunters from living the perfect eternal life. Back then Jace, Alec, and herself would jest around the yards, laughing and boasting about the demons they had killed.

Now it was all but a faded memory, as elusive as the mist that twirled around her ankles.

She stepped back and looked at Jace's golden orbs. Like her, he seemed unease, eager to leave this place and do something… Anything. Yet he also desired to be seen with the respect and dignity, for not only was he an incredibly talented Shadowhunter, he was the last of the Wayland Branch, most of his kin lost to the War. He tried his best not to shift his weight from one foot to the other, though that only resulted in his restlessness being released through nervous fingers that moved nonstop, as if trying to grasp an invisible sword. Both wanted to leave at that moment, yet neither dared to do so before such order was given. That was, after all, what was expected of a respectable and competent soldier… Of a Shadowhunter.

"Due to the evidence provided by Isabelle of the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, and Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch, I find the accused guilty of the highest treason possible." His voice rang loud, echoing through the building like the bells of minutes ago "For multiple interactions with the Downworlder enemies and the attempt to end the life of you Charge, Magnus Bane, I declare that Hodge of the Shadowhunter Starkweather Branch shall be executed immediately."

After those words were spoken, one of the Silent Brothers stepped forward with a sword. Isabelle could not help but feel slightly nervous. She had never seen one of _those_ before, but she always imagined it would stand out as opposed to the weapons the other Shadowhunters used on a regular basis; yet there was absolutely nothing that helped her tell that sword apart from all the other ones she had seen during her long life. Jace showed preference to swords, and that sword, the sword that would take Hodge's life, looked and felt no different than one of Jace's own.

That scarred her more than she would ever admit.

When the chained Shadowhunter was forced down to his knees, the mist lifted with the impact before wrapping itself around Hodge's body and floating back down. Robert then proceeded to walk behind the man, pick up some of the chains that bound his hands back, pulling it as tight as he could, forcing the other to open his chest wide.

After she grabbed the sword, not without respectfully bowing towards the Silent Brother, Maryse repositioned herself so she was facing Robert, Hodge kneeled between them. Isabelle saw him lift his head, and although there was acceptance of his fate, she could have sworn she saw something else in his eyes… Was it amusement? Maybe Hodge had finally given in to insanity, brought forth by the War… Why else would he betray them?

"Any last words, Downworlder?"

Hodge remained silent.

It took less than a second; one moment the sword was by Maryse' side, and in the next it had penetrated Hodge just below the ribcage, the point peeking out from the other side of his body. His eyes widen just slightly as the sword broke skin, and shortly after his chin was no longer held high in pride and defiance.

Isabelle noticed first the blood that dripped from his lips rather than the one from the wound. It must have not been long, but it felt like an eternity. She saw the light in his eyes die; it's true color fading until both irises were as black as the night sky. When her gaze shifted towards the wound, she found that the sword was still in place. Blood was staining his Shadowhunter tunic; the thin fabric being weighted down by the dense, red liquid.

When the sword was removed, not a second after it was thrust inside now dead Shadowhunter, Isabelle noticed that the blood from Hodge's body slowly made its way down to the tip of the weapon before dripping on the crystal floor. The mist seemed to know the exact moment a drop would fall, for it cleared the way for it just enough not to be tainted by it. She gazed back at Hodge's body; Robert's strong hold on the chains the only thing keeping it in place.

Isabelle watched all of this with fascination… It was the first time she had ever seen a Shadowhunter being killed… And she honestly hoped it would be the last.

Robert's face when he let go of the chains was a mask of pure indifference. The body fell forward, the mist parting just as it did with the blood. He fell faced down, blood still pouring, still thin enough to form a red puddle on the crystal floor. The mist moved again, and now it hovered over the body, as it didn't exist.

Maryse carefully cleaned the blade before giving it to the Silent Brother who had first handed it to her. Just like that the trial and execution was over, and the Shadowhunter of the Starkweather Branch was no more.

"Isabelle of the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, and Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch, in the name of The Clave, I thank you for your services."

Both young Shadowhunters placed their right hand over their left chest, the left hand behind their back, before dropping down to one knee and bowing respectfully, as according to Shadowhunter custom. Although her eyes were supposed to be closed, Isabelle kept them opened, noticing that some of Hodge's blood was approaching them. She never realized how much blood a Shadowhunter had inside its' body.

They stood up with a grace no human could ever hope to possess, and left without another word, knowing that they were officially dismissed and expected to leave Alicante and the Realm of Idris at once. Just as the doors were about to close, Isabelle heard the judge's annoyed voice as he complained about the fact that they needed to find a new Shadowhunter for Hodge's old Charge as soon as possible.

Magnus Bane was still getting used to his newly acquired fame. That is not to say he did not enjoy the attention; the feeling of being recognized for his music was beyond words in his vast vocabulary. It delighted him that his songs were being enjoyed by thousands of music lovers, that he had inspired so many; and that his name finally, after so much hard work and struggle, meant something to people. No longer was he colorful shadow in the busy streets of New York City! Now, when people looked at him, heard him play, they gave him the recognition he worked so hard to obtain.

Yes, it was nice. Wonderful, even! The best feeling in the world…! But it still took him some time to get used to it. For many years he had been a nobody; someone who busy company workers would sneer at for taking up place in the streets and train stations, Penn Station being one of his favorite spots, to play his songs. To them he was a no good scum who needed to find a real job instead of perusing a hopeless career in the music industry.

Currently he had just returned from his North American tour, the last stop being his home city, the one that never sleeps. After being so long away from home, he desired nothing more but to cuddle up with Chairman Meow, screw if the damn cat actually wanted him or not, and spend some time with his two childhood best friends.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian restaurant at seven at night. He left at an acceptable hour, his hair and makeup with the perfect amount of color and glitter, yet he still found himself twenty minutes late. Magnus calculated the route with precision, taking bus delays into account, for one would be a fool to not do so in the Big Apple. What he did not account for, however, was to be recognized and stopped by anyone on his long journey from his fabulous Brooklyn apartment to the small, yet incredibly fancy, Manhattan restaurant. His fame was newly acquired, and Magnus knew he was still unknown enough to be able to take the bus without much trouble… But apparently he was already famous enough to be stopped once or twice for a picture and an autograph while out in public.

Which is why when he entered the restaurant, he found Clary and Simon were already eating the bread with olive oil and butter that had been placed in their booth at the far right end of the establishment.

"Well, well, well… It seems my dearest friends have already forsaken me in favor of Italian bread, butter and oil, as well as some sparkly beverage full of chemicals, most commonly known as soda." Said he as he sat opposite to the couple "A few months away, and this is the welcome I receive? My, Chairman Meow was more welcoming, and _that _is saying something."

The restaurant had an old décor, walls painted a dark color with paintings of rivers and forests hanging a few feet apart from each other. The main source of light in the room was a chandelier a few feet away from the wine bar, and each booth had its own light fixture. The chairs and tables were of dark wood and the chair cushions of a deep red, giving the restaurant a cozy feel.

"Dramatic as always, huh?" Clary said "Drop the act, Magnus. We were there when you first arrived in the city, and also watching you during rehearsal."

"How did that go, by the way?" Simon asked, getting yet another piece of bread as Magnus looked over the Menu and asked the waiter for one of their fruity mixed drinks "I mean, what did the guys decide? Is your New York City show cancelled?"

"Cancelled?" Magnus repeated, turning to the young man with glasses and curly black hair "No, of course not! You know business people, complete parasites! They would not cancel a show, it would mean refund, which means losing money."

"Then what did they decide?" asked Clary "Are they changing venues?"

"No, it would be impossible to do so with so little short notice." Magnus shook his head, proceeding to grab a piece of bread for himself "I'm starving, been practicing all day long. Do you already know what you will order?"

"I'm thinking about getting the Fettuccini Alfredo with broccoli…" answered Simon "I heard it's really good. What about you, Clary?"

"I don't know… The portions here seem awfully big, so I was planning on sharing, but…"

"I could share with you." Said Magnus "If you order something good, that is."

"I always order something good." She said "You are the weirdo in the trio, Magnus."

"I object! I find my taste in everything the best that is!" he put a hand to his chest in mock shock "I have the best taste in clothes, music, art…"

"Not true!" Clary said.

"TV shows," he continued as if she had not spoken "Parties, food, books,"

"Now _that's _not true" Simon objected.

"And, of course, men." He finished, with a teasing smirk.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Simon protested "I may be the only one into woman, but I think Clary has great taste in men."

"You are hardly competent to judge Clary's taste in men, considering the two of you are _engaged._" Magnus answered.

"Exactly the reason why _my_ taste in men is better than _yours" _Clary smiled "I found myself someone who I'll gladly spend the rest of my life with, while you are still sleeping with a different person every night."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Magnus laughed, and soon the other two joined in "Now, come on, let me see the ring."

Clary smiled at her best friend and extended her delicate right hand, showing him the beautiful, yet simple, diamond ring Simon had given to her when he proposed. The thin ring wrapped itself beautifully around the painter's finger, although instead of meeting at the end to form a complete circle, one side raised itself slightly, while the other turned down, forming an oval. Inside of it two sapphire stones rested between a small, yet brilliant diamond.

"Wow… That must have cost you a fortune."

"Well, actually…" Simon started saying, before Magnus interrupted him.

"Oh, no, love, I was talking about Clary's nails." Magnus turned towards the red haired girl "How did you manage to make them look this nice? I mean, they are long, seem strong, and the polish doesn't seem to be fading away, even you deal with turpentine."

"I don't paint with oil that often, Magnus, I find that I enjoy pastel, or watercolor and ink much better for my illustrations… Or Photoshop, that also works… But when I do paint with oil, I use gloves." The woman said, rolling her eyes "You could have nice nails to, if you let them grow a bit."

"My nails look fabulous the way they are, thank you very much." He smiled "Besides, can't play the violin with long nails. Doesn't work well, God knows I tried." He shook his head, before turning back to Simon "But seriously, how much did it cost? I mean… How many stories did you have to write before you could afford it?"

"More than I care to imagine." Simon sighed "There are not many magazines that print short stories and pay a good sum of money, and I'm still trying to get an agent that will allow me creative freedom when writing my books."

"Is it that tough?" Magnus asked, frowning.

"Like you said, business people are parasites." Simon sighed "All they care is the number of sales, not the quality of the product or the creative effort in it. Right now Supernatural Romance for Young Adults is the big thing; as long as there is a hot male lead and a special yet ordinary female character, no one cares about prose, plot, character development, or conflict."

"It would be easier to self-publish, that would give Simon enough creative freedom to do what he wants, but those books don't sell nearly as much as we hope." Clary sighed "I'm doing well, my art work gives us enough money to live in the apartment, and conventions are great money makers, Comic Con especially, but…"

"It's not the money you are after." Magnus nodded.

"Money is what we need to live." Simon shook his head "What I really want is to tell my stories, allow my creativity to flow and be appreciated for it, like you do with your violin and Clary with her arts."

"But no one will give him a chance." Clary said "No market for it, they said… Even though Simon's work is excellent, and he has many online fans, agents still turn him down."

"They'll take me if I sell out." He said "Which, of course, I won't. But it's not like they are completely to blame… Lately I haven't got a good idea that could be expanded to the length of a novel."

"Writer's block?" Magnus asked.

"Writer's block." He confirmed with a sigh "For now I'll have to do with short stories in magazines and on the internet, until I come up with something big."

"You'll get there." Magnus smiled "We all start somewhere… Just look at me! I'm a fine example of that!"

The friends laughed, and proceeded to finally look at their menus, realizing they had dismissed the waiter three times already. Simon asked for his fettuccini, and Magnus and Clary, instead of sharing, ordered a dish for each of them, deciding that they would take home the leftovers, since no one in the trio liked to spend they had to work on their craft on cooking something decent.

They laughed, Simon and Clary telling about what Magnus missed during the months he had been away. They told the story of how Simon proposed, and how Chairman Meow, who had been staying at their place, claimed the old arm chair as his personal throne. Magnus told them all about his North American Tour, the cities he had been in, the fans he met, and how once there was this little girl who came to him, and said she started to take her violin lessons seriously because of him; she had told him she had never realized how cool the classical instrument could be in the hands of one who knew what he was doing.

"Making the violin cool again, are you?" Clary asked, smirking "Oh, how grateful we are to be in your remarkable presence, Great Magnus Bane."

"Yes, indeed, you should be proud of yourselves! I do not talk with commoners that often" Magnus laughed.

"You never did answer the question." Simon suddenly said "What have they decided? You know, about the last show in the tour, here in the city."

"Oh, that!" Magnus said "Well, ends up the place where I'm going to play has been advertising the show for a while, so we obviously can't change locations… Plus, there is the whole refund thing. The date was merely pushed back, about a month or so."

"A _month_?" Simon asked "That's after Comic Con… Why so late?"

"Well, a big light did fell on stage." Clary said "I'd imagine it would take a while to fix everything."

"Exactly. They are also trying to investigate what made the thing fall, almost killing me in a tragic accident." Magnus sighed dramatically "Plus, they decided to use this month window to try and sell more tickets and get the concert sold out."

"They still don't know what caused the light to fall?" Simon asked, frowning.

"Nope." Magnus replied, taking a sip of his drink "No idea at all! It was miracle I was able to move aside so quickly. That thing fell just a few inches away from me!"

"We were there, Magnus." Clary said "It was more like a foot away."

"Like I said, a few inches. If it had fallen on me it would have killed me for sure!"

"That would certainly bring bad publicity to the place." Simon says "_Violinist Magnus Bane killed by spot light during rehearsal_!"

"It would have been all over the news." Clary agrees "A good way to go, for someone who loves attention as much as you."

"Oh, Clary, why must you be so mean to me?" said the violinist "Anyways, now that we are on that subject, I would like to invite the two of you to a party this weekend!"

"A party?" Simon asked "What for?"

"Well, I had already planned on throwing a party this weekend after the tour was completely over, but now it' a party to celebrate my victory over Death! You'll be coming, right?"

"Of course we will." Clary said "It's not like we have much of a choice, is it?"

"None at all." Magnus winked, and just in time their food arrived. Magnus raised his glass with a smile "But enough about me and my dance with death! We are here to celebrate this joyous occasion! Clary, Simon, I could not have picked better friends, and to see the two of you engaged after being together for so long… Well, all I can think to say is 'finally', because it has been since forever, I was starting to think you would marry in Vegas in with an Elvis impersonator as your marrying-person, or whatever it's called."

The two friends laughed.

"Anyway… I guess what I can say, Congratulations. You two are perfect together, and I would be lucky to find a man who would love me as half as much as you do each other."

In a city as big as New York, abandoned buildings were not a rare sight. Hotels, homes, restaurants… Even schools would be emptied and forgotten over time, dust and dead animal's carcass found everywhere. The city officials were too busy trying to keep its inhabitants and visitors safe, making sure the public transportation was working to the best of its abilities, and just running the big tourist center to worry about a few empty buildings. As long as they were not a safety hazard, there was no need to address the problem immediately.

Which is why such places, whose only Earthly visitors were animals or the daring teenager, were the perfect place for Shadowhunters to rest whenever they had some free time.

The old gothic church in a residential neighborhood in upper Manhattan had been abandoned for at least twenty years. It's beautiful stain glass windows, with vibrant purples and blue, had been broken many times by rocks thrown by rebellious youth. The brick walls were filled with graffiti, the cobble stone path leading to its heavy wooden doors overgrown with weed. But even though the residents of the area considered it an eyesore, having numerous meetings about to do with the old building, it was one of Isabelle, or Izzy, as she preferred to be called when not in Idris, and Jace's favorite places to be in the city.

The night sun of summer entered through the windows, creating beautiful, and yet eerie, reflections on the interior of the abandoned building. The benches were made of dark wood had a resting place where the faithful would kneel during the service. Some Bibles were still found scattered around the place, its pages yellowed due to lack of care. At the altar was a giant, detailed sculpture of the son of God with his hands nailed to an even bigger cross. His crown of thorns seemed to dig deep in the skin of the statue's face, which expressed all the pain the figure was going through.

There were other sculptures throughout the worshiping place; most noticeably one of the Virgin Mary, with dead flowers at its feet. Long ago, when the church was still functioning, many would go to the statue, kiss its feet and pray for something that they desperately needed. Once the place had been full of silver candlesticks and golden decorations, but they had been stolen years before, by greedy hands that were not weary of the divine punishment of the marble crucified man and his mother.

At this moment the female Shadowhunter was sitting in the back of one of the wooden benches, kicking her feet while talking to the male whom, to her, was the equivalent of Earthlings, or Mundanes, called a brother. The boy was laying down, also in one of the wooden benches, one of his fingers playing with a knife as a high school student would with their pencil. Both were now in Mundane clothes, with black tops exposing their marked arms, heavy combat boots, and dark jeans; if they were visible to Earthling eyes they would look like regular teenagers.

"I never thought it would look so ordinary." Izzy said "I mean, it really didn't feel any different than a regular Shadowhunter sword, did it?"

"Forget a Shadowhunter sword, it felt no different than Mundane one!" Jace said, looking at the girl "It looked so ordinary, too! No stone encrusted handle, or diamond sharp blades, or…"

"Diamond sharp blades?" she raise an eyebrow "Really?"

"Hey, it's one of the most powerful weapons in the universe! I thought it would be made of all precious gems and shit." The blond defended himself.

"But that makes it even more scary, doesn't it?" she shook her head "I mean, what if the Downworlders have one? They may use it in battle and we won't even know it!"

"They wouldn't do that!" Jace laughed at his friend's silly worries "As much as I hate those bastards, they are not idiots. They wouldn't risk such a precious asset in a simple battle."

"Who knows?" Izzy shrugged "They've been getting bolder and bolder. More desperate, I think… A few weeks ago I would never have suspected that they would have a spy…"

"Or that Hodge would be that Spy." Jace frowned "He may not be in the Lightwood Branch, but he helped all of us with our training."

"Not to mention we spent so much time with him because of our Charges." She sighed "I never saw any signs either. Never did he seem like the kind of Shadowhunter who would turn on us."

"Do you think he was ever on our side?" Jace asked "He always seemed to feel strongly about Downworlders and their cause. Maybe he didn't turn on us, maybe he was always a spy to begin with."

"Bullshit." Izzy said "No matter how strongly you feel about the Downworlders, none of us can deny that their message is appealing. It's the reason why their numbers are growing so much lately."

"Well, for once, you're right." Jace said.

"For once?"

"Don't cherish the feeling for too long, Izzy." He smirked "Anyways, it doesn't matter if their message is _appealing._ I'm still going to kick all their asses."

"Oh, really?" she said "You are not killing any Downworlders unless you go to the Front Line, and even then it's almost impossible to happen."

"Almost, Izzy, is the key word." His smirk never left his face "You are not taking into account is that none of the Shadowhunters in the Front Line are as amazing as Jace of the Wayland Branch."

"How could I have forgotten such a crucial detail?" she asked, now also smirking "Because, truly, how could we ever manage without the Great Jace of the Shadowhunter Wayland Branch?"

"Say what you want, but if I got my hands in one of those Weapons I could win this War singlehanded!"

"Of course you could." Izzy rolled her eyes "You'd probably just go cutting throats and killing whatever is in the way, without ever considering what's around you."

"And it would work perfectly." His confidence did not waver.

"Because it works so well when we're in battle." She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey, I get the job done, don't I?" he asked "The demons die and the Downworlders run. What else do you need?"

Izzy frowned. She had no answer to that. Indeed, as long as the job got done, what else matter? So Jace was a bit too harsh in combat, but her always managed to keep their Charges safe. In the War his missions were always successful, Downworlders always tiring before him. He was incredibly talented, incredibly powerful, after all.

But Izzy would not let Jace win this argument.

Before she could come up with an answer, however, a young Shadowhunter boy appeared in the Church. Like Izzy and Jace, he was also wearing Mundane clothes, going as far as wearing glasses to blend in. Izzy never really understood why Max, also from the Shadowhunter Lightwood Branch, liked to wear the Mundane thing, but she did not complain. He looked cute, she thought. It was something he picked up from one of his Charges, years ago. While the Shadowhunter was still too untrained to fight in the War, he was still required to care for a Charge and protect them from the enemy. Through the centuries the kid had become incredibly talented, and Izzy wondered if there were advantages to being trained during a time when all Shadowhunters were expected to always be at its finest.

"Max!" Jace said "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in training?"

"Or keeping an eye on your Charge?" Izzy asked.

Max shook his head.

"Training was cancelled! Maryse and Robert had to leave."

"What?" Jace asked. Sometime had passed since the execution; the two older Shadowhunters should have returned to their normal schedule.

"Why?" this time it was Izzy who asked the question "What happened?"

"They found Alec!"

**This is the end of Chapter 1! I hope everyone enjoyed it! If you did and you plan on staying with this fanfic for the 40+ chapters to come, please review! Reviews make for happy and motivated writers, and happy, motivated writers make for faster updates! IF you don't know what to review, tell me what you liked the most, what you liked the least, what do I need to change to improve, and what you think will happen in the next chapter. Where do you think this fanfic is going? What are things you are curious about? Please review, it doesn't take that long to write a few words of encouragement, and it honestly makes me so happy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is Chapter 02 of Truth's Shadow! **

_**PLEASE READ THIS**_**: Before we start, I want to remind everyone that this story will have 4 parts, each one of them will be more than 10 chapters long, and each chapter is 10 pages or more (this one was 14 without the notes at the beginning and the end). There is more to this story than boy-meets-boy, boys fall in love, boys get together… Not that there is anything wrong with that (I do enjoy reading fanfics like that), it's just that this is **_**NOT**_**that kind of story. I'm working up a plot that is slightly complicated (it will take more than 40 chapters to execute it), and Malec will not be the only focus of it. The romance in this story will build up slowly (like I said, 40 plus chapters), and this first few chapters are more focused on building a solid world (for there are fantasy elements to this story), and introducing the characters in this new world (which is different from canon)… We'll to character development soon, as well as building up the relationship (Magnus and Alec will go from strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers in a slow and realistic pace)… If these things are not things you like, then this is **_**NOT**_** the story for you. **

**ALSO! Warning! There is a description of injuries in this chapter, that while not extremely graphic (in my opinion), it may make some people uncomfortable. If description of broken bones and open cuts bothers you, please skip the paragraph (it's all in one paragraph) after Izzy describes Alec's hair. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

**Part I, Chapter 01 Recap:**

"_Max!" Jace said "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in training?"_

"_Or keeping an eye on your Charge?" Izzy asked._

_Max shook his head._

"_Training was cancelled! Maryse and Robert had to leave."_

"_What?" Jace asked. Sometime had passed since the execution; the two older Shadowhunters should have returned to their normal schedule._

"_Why?" this time it was Izzy who asked the question "What happened?"_

"_They found Alec!"_

**Truth's Shadow **

**..::Part I: Accelerando::..**

_~Chapter 02~ _

The three main buildings of Alicante stood in the Central Square, forming a circle around a big garden with trees that bloomed in a forever spring. The Training Facility, where young Shadowhunters used to stay when not taking care of their Charges, was found south of said Central Square. The building itself was not tall; the corridors that linked each of the four towers could be viewed as mere walls created to separate the outside terrain from the garden that existed in the middle of the facility. Like the one in the outside, it had trees from times long gone and times yet to come; branches were constantly losing petals, yet never quite running out of them. There inside the young Shadowhunters would train for hours, laughter and cries of excitement sometimes being heard over the bells of the Court; or at least, that's how it used to be during Izzy's youth.

Back then, when there was no War, Shadowhunter children could be almost as carefree as Mundane ones. She remembered those days with fondness; being young and excited about everything she learned and everything there was to do on Earth. She remembered taking care of her first Charge… And she also remembers mourning her death. It had been her first encounter with it, her first mourning and her last, for after it her teachers explained that death was part of the life of those on Earth, and that every Charge she would care for would reach that same end. Her job, they told her, was to make sure no Demons ever got to her Charges while their souls still inhabited the Earth. Like all other Shadowhunters, she took those words to heart; never again did she allow herself to mistake a Charge for a friend… Earthly beings and Shadowhunters may depend on one another for their existence, but that is where their connections ended… A Charge was no friend, it was merely a job entrusted to her.

Her Ceremony, the day when she became a fully-fledged Shadowhunter and was initiated into the Laws of the Clave, she remembered with even more fondness. She could recall, clear as day, how Alec and Jace, both whom had gone through the same process two centuries prior, beamed with pride as she entered the Court; although Jace would never admit to that. Even Maryse and Robert, strict teachers as they were, had smiles on their lips as she finished reciting the Vow and stood up from the kneeling position, her true form as vibrant as it had ever been. Hodge had been there too, and he embraced her with pride, for although they were not of the same kin, the Wayland, Starkweather, and Lightwood Branches had always been closely netted, and she saw him almost in the same light as she saw Maryse and Robert, the Heads of her Branch. After that day she was no longer considered a child in the eyes of the Clave; and true, back then she had not believe herself to be one for at least three or four centuries… Now she knew better. All of them, even Maryse, Robert, and Hodge, were children, sweet and innocent children, before the War started.

Things were different now. Like all of Alicante, the Training Facility was somber, a ghost of its former glory. Young Shadowhunters no longer spent their days in its garden, training and laughing without a care; the War had changed all of that. Shadowhunters like Max were trained individually by the Heads of their Branches, hardly ever interacting with others of their age. Many times they were taken to the field, fighting real battles instead of mock ones, though Izzy's opinion it made little difference, for Downworlders and Demons were everywhere since the War started, and if you had a Charge in your care, as all Shadowhunters must have, chances were you would be in a real battle at least once during your Charge's life time. Even so, regular training was now an intense experience; a merciless one that put the training of previous Shadowhunters, even those of the Clave, to shame. The Ceremony had also changed, no longer being a time for celebration and festivity. Although it was still held in the Court building, that stood west to the Central Square, only the Heads of the Branches and the Silent Brothers of the Clave could attend. Immediately after it, if their Charge was not in danger, the newly initiated Shadowhunters were required to go fight in the War, side by side with those like Izzy and Jace, who had been battling Downworlders since their betrayal.

Max was not yet initiated, and would not be so for another few centuries. Izzy hoped that when the time for his Ceremony did come, the War would be over, and the young Shadowhunter that she had come to love dearly could experience the same joy she did all those years ago.

The Court, unlike the Training Facility, was a tall, beautiful building, with corridors that seemed to run for miles, and majestic towers decorated, both inside and outside, with Crystal Statues of Shadowhunters in their true forms, carved with such detail that Mundanes of the likes of Michelangelo would cower in shame. Few visions were more awe inspiring than that of the pale light of Idris catching the delicate skin of the statues as the wind blew colorful petals, and long ago colorful feathers as well, in a lazy dance; the mist sometimes would crawls from behind the crystal Shadowhunter's feet, sweeping down the walls, mixing with the ivy that had crawled up the tower. Alec had explained to Izzy, when they were both young, that those were statues of Shadowhunters who faced honorable deaths. Shadowhunters who fought for justice and love; Shadowhunters unlike any others, and for that reason they had been immortalized in the building of the Court, so that all others could aspire to be like them.

The building itself was the second most remarkable and important building in all of Alicante; though it did come first when the number of stained glass windows were concerned. They were, perhaps, one of the most beautiful things in all realms, depicting the Laws of Idris through intricate patterns of vibrant purple, pink, and blue, the combination of it all rivaling even the beauty of the Crystal Statues. The bells of the Court were another wonder; they rang whenever something of importance happened to a native of Alicante, being heard by all Shadowhunters, no matter where they were. Once that building inspired awe deep inside Izzy; she would look at it, hoping that she would be able to prove herself a worthy Shadowhunter and be welcomed in the ranks of those who served the Court. Before, whenever she thought of the Court building, memories of her Ceremony would come to mind. The crystal floor of all of Idris seemed even more mesmerizing inside those walls; the mist that had swirled around her ankles made her want to dance, and the soft pale light that came through the colorful windows as the Crystal Statues looked at her with their unseen eyes only added to the majesty of the place during that time of pure bliss.

Yet now, as she glanced towards the Court before continuing on to her destination, all she could remember was blood… Blood and the weapon capable of doing the impossible; glimmering in that same soft and colorful light, daring her to abandon her role as an obedient soldier.

But little did that matter now. Izzy and Jace were being led by young Max to the Infirmary, a tall and wide building that stood east of the Central Square, facing the Court. Like all the other buildings in the sacred realm of Idris, it was built out of white stone, with dead ivy plants crawling as high as they could, framing the stained glass windows, trying to reach the high peaked roofs. Its door was in the form of an arch; great and heavy, taller than the walls of the Training Facility, and wide enough to allow six Mundanes, or one fully grown Shadowhunter with their true form open, to fit trough. Inside many other doors led to different rooms, though most remained empty. More often than not the building was used as an assembly hall, when matters too trivial for the Court needed to be discussed; other times children would dare each other to fight inside it, for the stairs, furniture, and many rooms made for a most interesting mock battle, one that many times turned into a game of hide-and-seek.

Now, though, the building was being used for its true purpose, something Izzy never thought she would see it happen. Most Shadowhunters could fix their own injuries with simple runes and a few days rest; rarely did they require the assistance of another Shadowhunter, but even when they did, more often than not the assistance came from a comrade in the War, rather than a Healer from the Clave. Yes, Izzy knew that the Infirmary was now being used more often for its true purpose, but like the death of Hodge, she never though she would ever see it happening personally.

The sixth floor had the only room in usage at the moment. The three Shadowhunters ran up the crystal stairs without pausing to admire how the dense mist fell lazily through each step, resembling a slow moving waterfall. When they finally made it to the door, as heavy and thick as the one of the entrance, though not as tall or wide, the three of them stopped for a moment, composing themselves. Hesitantly, Jace opened the door, revealing a spacious room with simple beds laid in two rows on opposite walls. The windows faced north, and in the distance Izzy could see the peak where the Clave building stood.

Maryse and Robert were on the left side of the room, their backs turned towards the door, blocking the view of the seventh bed in that row. Izzy made her way into the room slowly, and when she angled her body just right, she caught a glimpse of Alexander of the Lightwood Branch; the Shadowhunter Izzy and Max, as well as Jace, though he would never admit it, always looked up to with admiration and respect.

She wanted to cry and run into his arms, hug him and not let go until she convinced herself he was truly there. Alec, as he preferred to be called, had been in the Front Line for almost as long as the War itself, sent out to fight with a team of talented and discreet Shadowhunters. Recently they had all vanished, communication with them being completely cut off. Izzy never allowed herself to think much about the Front Line, Alec's missions, or his disappearance, though the truth was that she missed the other Shadowhunter more than she thought possible. Part of her always hoped that he had not truly disappeared as Maryse and Robert had told them, but that his team had been sent away to accomplish something so important that low ranking Shadowhunters such as herself and Jace could never be told about. Yet as she saw his pale, hollow face, and his melancholic eyes she knew that her hopes had been in vain.

He was the first to see them, smiling as he did so; though that slight curl of the corner of his lips could hardly be called that. Apparently Robert and Maryse had been talking to him, for he quickly turned his attention back to their teachers, and nodded wordlessly, as the good and obedient soldier they all were. With that, the two Heads of the Lightwood Branch left the room, nodding slightly in acknowledgement to the three that were now completely inside the room. Although no words were exchanged, Izzy could easily understand the unspoken order: Don't take long, for he needs his rest and the three of them should go back to their duties before they are missed.

They moved quickly, and as they got closer to the slightly older Shadowhunter, Izzy could take in his appearance better. Alec had never been one to care much for looks, and so he groomed his own hair; cutting only the sections that had become too troublesome for battle, which resulted in an uneven black mess. Yet it was not the unkempt nature of his hair that worried Izzy; Alec's hair was longer than she had ever remembered seeing him, with strands blocking his eyes and others reaching lower than his chin. That, to Izzy and Jace, spoke volumes, for if Alec's hair had grown that long, it meant that the time he spent away had left him little time to prepare himself for combat; the state of his hair alone told Izzy and Jace that during all those long years he was missing, so many years that Izzy, for the sake of her sanity, had to force herself to stop keeping track, was spent in non-stop fighiting.

If the hair wasn't enough proof of such theory, the injuries across his body would suffice as evidence. Izzy could now see why her kin needed to be treated in the Infirmary; his pale skin, another characteristic of the Lightwood Branch, was missing in some of the few visible areas of his body, as though knife had worked its way beneath it and, with care practice, separated from the muscles that still clung tightly to the bones. Cuts could be seen everywhere, and the enemy had not discriminated between skin and muscle, some slices cutting ligaments that, were Alec's Healers not Shadowhunter from the Clave, he would have no use of his right arm anymore, the one he used to draw his bow. Most of his fingers seemed to be broken, though Izzy could hear the low cracks of adjustment and recovery; indeed, when she looked at his hand she could see the rune that helped mend broken bones. As she looked over the rest of his body, she could see many other runes, some carved in his skin so crudely that they left no doubt in the female Shadowhunter's mind that Alec had drawn them himself in a hurry, probably using the tip of one of his arrows during mid-combat. His ribs were covered by his clothes, and therefore not visible to her eyes, though Izzy could see by the way Alec had been positioned, and by the cloth tightly wrapped around his torso, that those were broken as well; no doubt soon she would also start hearing the crack of those bones, though they would be much louder than those of his fingers. As she looked to his legs, she could see that his ankles had been shattered, every single bone broken to a point that would leave a Mundane unable to walk for the rest of their short lives. The skin, or the little that was left of it, around them, too, were cringe worthy; blood and veins were visible, though unlike other parts of his body, those did not seem to have been caused by a sharp instrument, but rather a constant rubbing of a hard object against soft skin, causing it to slowly and painfully scraped away like wood when rubbed with sandpaper. His face had not gone unharmed, though most of the injuries had either been healed or were wrapped in a once-red-but-now-pink-cloth, with healing runes on his jaw and forehead. His left eye was covered, and Izzy was thankful for the small rune in his cheekbone, that would repair his vision. Burn scars could be seen everywhere, some ending where open wounds began, the image of burning muscles and tendons forcing the female Shadowhunter to bite her lower lip in order to keep her composure. The few patches of skin that were still, or perhaps already, soft and uninjured, were covered with more runes and dry blood. And as if all of that wasn't enough, Alec looked like a skeleton, proving that he also had little time to eat.

Jace was the first to break the silent, pulling a chair to the side of the bed and giving Alec a lopsided smirk before he spoke.

"Looks like they did a number on you, there; though I hope the dry blood belongs to them, or else I'll have to disown you as my honorary kin."

"Jace!" Izzy called out, finally finding her voice.

"What? I welcomed you all into my lonely Branch, I can easily kick you out."

"I thought we were the ones who adopted Jace." Max said, looking at Alec for an explanation.

"That's what Maryse and Robert want you to believe." Jace said "Why would I want to join the Lightwoods and work under someone when I can be the Head of the Waylands?"

"The Head and sole member." Alec corrected, his smile just a little more genuine than the one from before, though that may be because it was too painful for the Shadowhunter to force himself to do more than that "How do you expect to lead a Branch without people to follow you?"

"Details." The blond Shadowhunter said, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hands "I'm still the Head of the Wayland Branch, and one of the best Shadowhunter to ever live."

"If you are so good, then why aren't you in the Front Line like Alec?" Max asked, and although Izzy knew that there was curiosity in his tone, his question was posed as a challenge; a challenge for Jace to dare say he was a better Shadowhunter than Alec, the one Max admired the most.

"That's because Jace and Izzy are too flashy." Alec explained, still smiling. Izzy felt herself relax little by little… Alec's smiles had always been a form of comfort for her "The Front Line requires Shadowhunters who can work without needing all eyes on them or who give out hubris boasts of their accomplishments." He looked from Max to the two older Shadowhunters "Clearly something neither of them can do, no matter how talented they are."

Max's laugh seemed to erase all the tension in the room. Izzy and Jace joined the laugh, though the former tried to keep a pout on her face, while Jace claimed that his amazingness could not, and should not, be kept hidden from anyone.

They jested around a bit. Alec's smiles and eyes did not shine nearly as bright as before, though Izzy could easily see how anyone with such injuries would find it physically painful to be incredibly lively or joyous. Still, she couldn't help but smile at the idea of having Alec back. The three of them, Alec, Izzy, and Jace, had always been as close as Shadowhunters can get, always spending their free time together. When Max came around, they welcomed the boy into their group with open arms, and Alec had been especially doting; he always had that big brother quality to him, one that made all of them feel safe and secure, even if he wasn't the best fighter in the group. Even now he radiated of that brotherly kindness, making it even harder for small Max not to crawl into his lap, like he clearly desired to do.

Izzy could not count the amount of times she came to the injured Shadowhunter for comfort, or perhaps to let off some steam. He was always patient when dealing with her, listening to her complaints and letting her take her anger out on him without a word of protest. Many times he would take her to places on Earth which she had never thought of visiting, secluded areas of natural beauty that made her eyes wide in wonder. Whenever she vocalized any sort of hateful thoughts towards Earthly beings he would take her to witness some of the most amazing acts of kindness she had ever seen. Other times, when she needed to be at peace, he would show her the most isolated places in Idris, long past the gates of Alicante. He would stand quietly in the distance, sometimes practicing his archery, and other times just walking around; then she would call him, and he would be there in a blink of an eye, ready to do whatever he could for her.

He was her constant supporter… Her best friend, her strength, her protector, and her inspiration. Whenever they fought together, Alec was always more concern with keeping her safe then protecting himself. She remembered how back in her youth she would watch his moves closely, studying each of them with care. Whenever she won a fight he would be there, smiling proudly at her, and the victory tasted so much sweeter for she knew she had impressed him. She confided in him all her secrets, all her thoughts and doubts, and he would always patiently listen to her, easing her worries with smooth words and a small smile that spoke clearly of his affection. For as long as she remembered, Alec had been a great part of her life, just as she was an enormous part of his.

Nothing spoke more of Alec's love and dedication towards them, however, then when Jace lost the last of his kin to the War. Although small, the Wayland Branch had always been powerful and talented, which was the reason the majority of them had been sent to the Front Line. Little by little they were captured and executed by the enemy, until Jace, who had never been welcomed in the Front Line for the exact reasons Alec had explained to Max, was the only one left. The bells had rang that day in a somber tone, and the three of them had gone to Court, where the Clave delivered the message. Jace was the last of his kin, and due to his close proximity to the Lightwood Branch, he would now operate as one of them, until further orders had been given.

When the meeting was over Jace left without a word, and Alec was quick to follow. Izzy wanted to go to, but she stopped herself. Yes, Jace and she were close, but not nearly as close as he and Alec.

Back in the days they trained together, when Jace was still too young to know what pride was, he followed Alec around like a little duckling, just as Max did now. Some of the other Shadowhunters would tease Jace, and with his quick temper, he would snap at them, causing many injuries. Whenever the teachers heard the commotion, Alec always covered for Jace, sometimes taking the blame himself. So great was Jace admiration for Alec that even tried to pick up archery, though he was not talented enough. Alec had been the one to suggest for Jace to switch to the sword; his first time training with the one Alec had chosen for him was such a success that he never used any other weapon since.

Izzy remembered clearly that mock battle: Jace surrounded by five older Shadowhunters, defeating them with an ease and grace that left most of those around him jealous. As the final one yielded, Jace turned to look at Alec, both children beaming with pride at each other.

After that training, Jace started to shine brighter and brighter as the years went by, soon becoming the most admired Shadowhunter in the entire Training Facility. It was from that point on that Jace's ego and pride started to grow to the point of arrogance, though the golden Shadowhunter never abandoned the Lightwoods; in fact, his loyalty to them only strengthening as time went on. When he finally won a mock battle against Alec, both boys had smiles from ear to ear on their faces, and one would have never guessed that Alec had lost to the boy he used to protect in their younger days. It was then that Izzy learned that Jace's admiration and respect was not one sided; just as Jace strived towards being more like Alec, Alec strived towards being more like Jace. Both of them, in a way, completed each other. When battling together it was like a performance, one that had taken years of practice to perfect. They fed off each other's energies, communicating without words. If Jace needed someone to cover his four o'clock, Alec was there in an instant, before Jace even realized an opponent was about to take a slice at him. If Alec's target had moved even slightly out of aim, so slightly that the archer himself would not have seen, Jace was quick to hit them back into position, barely giving the opponent a second to register what happened before Alec's arrow hit them. Their friendship, their bound, was one that was formed once in a millennium; and for that reason, Izzy left Alec go comfort Jace alone.

She did, however, searched for them when too many hours had gone by. She found them in the outskirts of Idris, sparring with each other. It was clear to her that Jace needed to release as much of his anger as possible, and Alec was willing to help him in any way he could. Rather than letting Jace go fight in the War at that particular moment, when anger and grief made him vulnerable to all sort of attacks, Alec allowed the younger Shadowhunter to attack him with all his might, doing nothing else but evading those that were a bit too powerful. Finally, when the Wayland had tired himself out, he fell into his knees.

Jace did not cry, Izzy knew that, for she watched closely and saw no tears… Yet it was the most vulnerable position she had ever seen him in. Alec gave him a hug and held him close, like he did with her many times in the past. Jace did not cry, because Jace never cries, but he allowed himself to be sad and vulnerable in front of Alec. If the manner they fought did not speak of how strong their bound was, then that moment that Izzy was not supposed to witness did.

And now they sat there, together, all of them. Alec was injured, terribly so, but his presence still gave out that warmth that Izzy, Jace, and Max loved so much. Their Alec was back, and although the War was still strong, with no end in sight, Izzy could feel herself more at ease now that she had her three boys with her.

Yet there were still many questions that needed answering...

"Where is everybody else?" Izzy asked, looking around the empty room "Where are all the other people from your team? Where is Sebastian and…"

Alec looked at her with grave eyes before shaking his head. Izzy silenced herself, feeling a chill down her spine. Something was wrong and…

"I'm not allowed to talk about this."

Alec would never tell them what that something was.

"Not allowed?" Jace frowned "Not even to us?"

"To anyone," Alec said.

"But we're your kin!" Jace protested.

"Now you are my kin?" Alec asked, smiling slightly.

"No, you are my kin. I told you, I welcomed you all into the Wayland Branch; Honorary Waylands. I don't know why they haven't made it official yet, but that's the way it is."

Izzy rolled her eyes, before turning back to Alec.

"What about Maryse and Robert? Can they know about it?"

Alec nodded.

"I can only discuss what happened to the Heads of my Branch, the Clave, and those in the Court."

Izzy felt herself pale at the mention of the Court. Images of Hodge's trial and execution flashed in her mind. The blade, the blood that she did not know if it had been cleaned from the crystal floor under the mist; her, standing there, giving a full account of what she had witnessed. All of that came back into her mind in a flash; for a second she believed herself to be still there, staring at Hodge's body as the Crystal Statues stared at her in a silent warning. It all made her feel sick, more so than the state of Alec's body.

The heaviness of the situation, of the conditions that had brought Alec back, was finally concrete in her mind. Alec was back from the Front Line of the War… No matter how much she dreamed, it would take a long time before the four of them could be happy and carefree like she almost fooled herself to believe they were at this very moment.

"Will you testify?" Izzy asked "In Court? Will you have to go and say what you witnessed in front of the Silent Brothers and…"

Alec shook his head.

"I'm in no shape to go to Court right now." He said "They were here with Maryse and Robert before, when the Healers were patching me up. I already told them all there was to say; they'll not need me in Court."

"Couldn't they wait?" Max finally spoke "You are injured and…"

"They want me to be back on duty as soon as possible."

"What?!" Jace asked, his voice louder than Izzy would have liked "But you just came back from the Front Line! They can't send you back again!"

"They won't." Alec said. He smiled down at Max, trying to comfort him, though Izzy could see that the smile held bitterness "I'm in no shape to fight in the War at all."

"What does that mean?" Izzy asked.

"That I'm not allowed anywhere near the battlefield." Alec looked away, towards the window. His eyes had a far off look, and Izzy wondered if he was seeing the Clave in the distance, or something ever further off in the past "I'm too damaged to fight, according to them. I would do no good in combat, even if it wasn't in the Front Line; in fact, they believe I would do more harm than good."

Izzy frowned, anger boiling inside of her. She wanted to yell, wanted to call bullshit on everything. Alec was not damaged; he was not a thing to be talked about like that! Yes, the Shadowhunter was injured, but those injuries would heal in a few days and he would be as good as new! He would be able to fight, able to join her and Jace in the War, fight alongside with them, just like long ago! Alec was fine! He was an incredible warrior, an obedient soldier, a model Shadowhunter! It was an outrage for them to just keep him out of the War!

Yet she dared not speak a word, for one never questioned the Clave's orders, no matter how much you disagreed with them.

"What are you going to do then?" Max asked.

"The same as you." Alec smiled, the bitterness almost completely gone from face, while he turned to look at Max once more "I'll be taking care of a Charge… My first one in centuries."

"They are giving you a Charge?" Jace asked, a bit surprised "Who? When will it be born?"

"It has been born already." Alec explained "Apparently after Hodge's execution, his Charge has been left without anyone. They needed to give him a Shadowhunter, I needed a new Charge… It worked out perfectly for the Clave."

Izzy and Jace looked at each other. They knew perfectly well who Hodge's Charge was, and Izzy could not help but smile; if Alec was taking over Hodge's Charge, than that meant the three of them would indeed be able to spend more time together.

"Good!" she said "Then I know what we will do to celebrate your return as soon as you are out of the Infirmary!"

* * *

This part was always one that he enjoyed playing; after the usage of the rapid bow movements of trémolo, the sharp and well-marked notes of the marcato, and the occasional detached strokes of martellato, all on the G and D strings, with the application of extra pressure on his bow so he could get the strong and loud fortissimo the part demanded, he held the last note in the measure for a full three beats, dramatically decreasing his tone while his left hand worked a vibrato that he knew left his audience on the edge of their seats.

He paused for half a beat before starting once again, going to the second position and using the smooth strokes of legato on the D string. He occasionally switched to the G string, and changed his tone to one that demanded attention, but at the same time acknowledged his inferiority to the one of the D string. Then he quickly jumped to the E string, separating each note with accuracy, but also adding a bite to it, making it sound screechy and a bit unpleasant. This back and forth between each of the three different voices, as he liked to think of them, went on for another three measures before he started another march sequence, that preceded the most epic part of this piece.

As Magnus Bane played, he kept his eyes closed, slightly aware of the steady beat of the metronome to his right. Like most of the pieces he had written, he knew this by memory, and felt that visualizing the story he was telling was much more helpful than looking at the music score and keeping an eye for future slurs or shifts. It was not a good habit, he knew he should keep his eye on the music, yet he could not help himself.

This particular piece was the one he had been using to open every single one of his performances during this tour. It told one of his favorite stories, that of Sir Gareth going to rescue the Lady Lyoness while her, incredibly annoying, in Magnus' opinion, sister Lady Lynette followed along.

As a child he had been a fan of tales of brave knights leaving their homes in some adventurous quest. Dragons, magic, sword fights, traveling across the land… What wasn't there to enjoy? It was only natural, then, that he would eventually find himself enticed with the numerous Arthurian Legends.

Yet it was never King Arthur who caught his attention; sure, he liked the story of the fifteen year old who became King after pulling the sword out of the stone, and then had the great Merlin by his side, advising him on his quests and on the governing of the great kingdom of Camelot… But he often felt that King Arthur's heroic deeds were overshadowed by the love triangle between himself, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot. Contrary to what most people would think, the romance of the three tragic figures hardly interested the self-proclaimed Drama Queen; rather, he enjoyed reading about the other protectors of Camelot, the often underrated, in Magnus' opinion, Knights of the Round Table.

Sir Gareth had always been his favorite. Something about the story of the young noble becoming a kitchen boy, so he could prove to King Arthur that he was worth of being a knight by his skills, and not by his status, drew him. Sir Gareth, young and fair, wanting to win his place in court for his actions, not his name, had always been Magnus' idea of a perfect man. Whenever he stopped to think about the dashing knight, he imagined him as someone who tried to hold himself with pride, but underneath had an enormous insecurity. He pictured the boy watching his older brothers, and while there would be admiration in his eyes, there would also be fear that he would never be good enough. He also imagined someone whose voice held a certain steadiness to it; someone who would be able to reason with anyone, hence his use of legato when asking his violin to 'speak' in Sir Gareth's voice. It always broke his heart that the young knight, so set on justice, had been slain by Sir Lancelot, a person he admired perhaps even more than his own brothers.

As he continued to play the piece, named after the protagonist of the story, he found himself wondering with whom he identified the most: Sir Gareth or Lady Lyoness. Many times in his childhood he wondered if he was like the fair lady, rescued by a knight. Other times he wished to be like the handsome Sir Gareth; setting out in adventurous far beyond home, helping those in need.

But all of that mattered little now; Lady or Knight, he was as unlikely to be rescued as he was to rescue another. The violin was his comforter now, and he has long given up the dreams of quests, magic, and true love, for one of music, pleasure, and friendship…. In a way, the violin had been his knight, showing him that he needed to look no further than his own mind to live his adventures. His music was his voice, his way of telling stories. He may not be talented with words, but the notes that his fingers conjured could tell tales that would leave writes mad with jealousy.

Or at least, that's how it used to be.

As he finished the piece, ending with a somber G with a fading vibrato, the room was filled with applause, and Magnus turned around to find that, sometime during his practice, Simon and Clary had entered his apartment uninvited.

"_Gareth_, right?" Clary asked, smiling "I always love how you play this piece! I almost forget how talented you are until I hear it!"

"It's a fan favorite, isn't it?" Simon asked "It tells the story well… You know, if this live musician thing doesn't work, you can always start composing for movies. I'm sure you would be great at it, and it should pay better than concerts and what little money you get from people who still buy music."

"Yes, well, I'll wait to see how this goes for a while before I change the route of my music career." Magnus said, putting his violin down with immense care "What are you two doing here anyway? I didn't let you in."

"You gave us the key ages ago!" Clary said, frowning.

"For emergencies, not to burst into my apartment like that." He tried his best to make himself sound angry, though the slight smirk on his lips probably gave him away. "If you wanted to talk, you could have just called or texted."

"We live two floors above you!" Simon said "It would be a waste of battery and of minutes to do that."

"Besides, it's not like you answer your phone while you're practicing anyways." Clary said, putting some really heavy looking plastic bags on his couch, her actions being met by a death glare sent by a white cat that resembled more a fluffy, and slightly bipolar, fur ball "Oh, stop it Chairman Meow, you hardly take up the whole couch."

"It is his couch." Magnus said "Or at least, it is while he is there. That's how it goes with cats, Clary, as soon as they lay down on something the entire surface area belongs to them and them alone."

"Which is why if we ever decide to get a pet, it will be a dog." Said the writer, glaring at the cat.

"And that might just be the moment I'll stop visiting you." By now Magnus had already put away his violin, turned off the metronome, and got all his music sheets out of the way so the three friends could spend the rest of the afternoon together "What did you buy anyway?"

"Some new art supplies." Clary said "New York Comic Con is coming soon, and I just want to make sure I have an enough variety of art pieces to sell… I also needed a new sketchbook and some new paints."

"She bought both watercolors and acrylic." Simon sighed dramatically "And charcoal, and pastel, and, of course, the proper canvas and paper for each, in many different sizes."

"Sounds expensive." Magnus frowned, doing the mental math on the amount of money they spend.

"It is. Not to mention she takes hours to choose between brands and colors and… OW!" the writer turned to look at his fiancée, who had just slapped him on the arm "That hurt!"

"You deserved it!" she said "You know I can't just simply buy whatever! The material needs to have quality, and the colors need to be not only be right for their own shade, but also for when you mix them with other colors and…!"

"Please, skip the lecture." Magnus interrupted "So there's no chance you have some cute designer shirt as a I'm-so-happy-you-didn't-die-present in those bags for me?"

"No." Clary said, before opening her purse "But we do have something else for you!"

Magnus raised an eyebrow. The young woman then quickly gave him a piece of paper that Magnus suspected to not be a two hundred thousand dollar coupon to some major shop on fifth avenue.

"What is this?" he said, looking it over.

"It's your ticket to New York Comic Con." Simon answered, smiling slightly.

"No thanks." He answered, giving them back the ticket.

"Oh, come on!" Clary said "You never go to these conventions!"

"For good reason." Magnus shook his head "You know this is your kind of thing, not mine."

"But Magnus, there will be some pretty famous people there! And if not that, can't you at least come to support Clary in her stand?"

"Famous people?" Magnus asked, before smirking slightly "Anyone like James Marsden? He was in a few of those comic book movies, wasn't he? I wouldn't mind going to see someone like _him._"

"_X-Men_." Simon nodded "No, I don't think he will be there…"

"And what do you mean someone like him?" Clary raised both her eyebrows.

"Well, black hair and blue eyes is my favorite combination." Magnus chuckled "Maybe if I could meet someone like him in one of those conventions, take him home and have my wicked way with said man, than I would be more likely to attend one."

"Is sex all you think about?" Simon asked.

"Sex and music." He laughed "Not that I'm having much luck in that department, as of late… Music, I mean. I've been having plenty of sex."

"Too much information." Simon made a disgusted face, which only made Magnus laugh more "But what do you mean no luck in Music? Your concerts…"

"Are doing marvelously, yes, but it's all my old stuff, darling. I have to start working on a new record, and I haven't been able to compose anything decent yet."

"Is that your version of writer's block?" Clary asked, frowning "Simon is still in his writer's block."

"Not writer's block, but… Lack of inspiration." He sighed "Even though I had a brush with death not so long ago, I can't think of anything interesting enough to write about… And it's not like I can just take another Arthurian tale and put it into song. People get tired of that easily, and as good as _Gareth_ is, it will not put me in the music history books."

"Maybe we should push you off a cliff, and see if you find inspiration there." Simon smirked.

"Maybe you need to fall in love." Clary smiled "Aren't the best songs based on love?"

"No." Magnus said, before he laughed once more "You won't see me composing love sick shit, Clary… If you want a romantic sonnet, ask your fiancée."

"I'm no good with poetry." Simon raised his hands, as if in surrender "You need to be some sort of genius to write _that _stuff."

"I'm serious!" Clary said "Maybe all you need is to find a nice man-"

"Like James Marsden?"

"to settle down with." Clary continued as if Magnus had not said a thing "Come on, we've known you since forever, and never have you been in a serious relationship."

"There is a reason for that." Magnus smiled "I'm Mr. Non-Commitment… And I like it that way. I'm happy like this."

"You sure?" Clary asked, frowning.

"Positive." He smiled.

And, honestly, he was. He didn't see anything wrong with his one-night-stands and friends-with-benefits lifestyle; he was quite content with it. Not to say he thought there was something wrong with falling in love and being in a serious relationship like Simon and Clary; it just wasn't his thing. Unlike most people, he did not want to go out there, looking for love… He much rather stumble upon it; live his life to the best of his abilities, and if he found love, someone to be happy with like Simon and Clary found each other, then that would be great… But if he didn't, that would be great too. He could see himself being happy either way, so why sweat over it?

Let destiny take care of that… She certainly would be a better match maker than Clary.

"As long as you are happy, then," Clary smiled, and Simon nodded in agreement.

"I am." He smiled "Now that's all done with, I'll need the both of you here early on Friday. My party has to be spectacular!"

**And that, my dear readers, is Chapter 02! This chapter was actually meant to be longer, go until the end of the party, but as I was writing the bit with Alec, and realized how long it was, I decided to cut and put the party and (obvious spoiler) meeting of Alec and Magnus to the next chapter. **

**I hope the description of Alec's injuries were not too graphic… And I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I really enjoyed writing it, I really did! I'm really looking forward to writing the rest of this story, even though it's going to be very long… I hope you guys are looking forward to it as much as I am! **

**Please review~~~!**


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